


Assorted Bits and Bobs

by alkjira



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Prison, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:42:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random stories that won't fit anywhere else but feel too tiny to post on their own.</p><p>Various pairings, ratings etc.<br/>Read chapter summaries/ notes for relevant info.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Magical Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter AU  
> Thorin/Bilbo  
> G-rating but some bad words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For example this chapter is not cute or cuddly enough to go in the Small Cute and Cuddly collecion. But posting it on it's own.... too small.
> 
> So new collection to keep things a bit orderly!

“Um, Bilbo,” Bofur said. “Why do you have a Hufflepuff tie?”  
  
Bilbo’s head snapped down, and oh dear. That was not his usual red and gold tie at all. Shame, because with the colour his cheeks were turning he’d complimented it rather well. Yellow did nothing for his complexion.  
  
"This has anything to do with how you were not in the dorms this morning?" Bofur asked, a teasing grin stealing over his face.  
  
Trying to discretely undo his tie Bilbo leaned a little closer to Bofur, glancing first at professor Saruman to make sure he wasn’t looking at them. “Tell you later.”  
  
“What do you have there, Baggins?” came a hissed question from behind them.  
  
Not quite discretely enough then. How he hated the classes they shared with Slytherin.  
  
“It’s none of your business, Smaug,” Bilbo said as he scrambled to get the tie off. Just as he was stuffing it into his pocket-  
  
“ _Accio_.”  
  
“Give it back!” Bilbo demanded, fingers scrambling to catch the tie that was slithering out of his pocket.  
  
“But it’s not _yours_ , is it?” Smaug asked, sending the yellow tie a disdainful look, and Bilbo narrowed his eyes.  
  
“You-“  
  
“The next person who speaks without it being potion related will serve detention with Professor Radagast,” Professor Saruman said, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He couldn’t have apparated, because there was no noise, but Bilbo could have _sworn_ he’d not been that close just a few seconds ago.  
  
Giving Smaug one last glare Bilbo sat back straight in his chair again, giving Bofur’s arm a small pat, trying his best to convey ‘ _We will talk later when there aren’t any snakes around’._  
  
-  
  
That turned out to be a little more difficult than anticipated because Smaug was waiting for them as they walked out of the potions classroom.  
  
“A Hufflepuff?” he said, contempt almost visibly dripping from his voice. “You could do better, Baggins. I’ve already told you that I’d be willing to go to Hogsmeade with you.”  
  
“Just give me the tie,” Bilbo said, holding out his hand.  
  
“Tell who it belongs to and maybe I will,” Smaug smirked.  
  
“Just let him keep it,” Bofur said, nudging Bilbo’s arm. “If that tie belongs to who I think it belongs to he can buy-“  
  
“So it is a he,” Smaug said, smirk widening into a grin that showed entirely too many teeth. “I wonder-“  
  
“Get away from him!”  
  
“Brilliant…” Bilbo murmured, closing his eyes.  
  
“Thorin Durin,” Smaug said. “And additional idiots.” He added, noticing that Thorin was followed by Dwalin and Balin.  
  
The redhead looked between the tie in his hand to Thorin’s lack of tie, then to the tie in Thorin’s hand as it was a very revealing Gryffindor red and gold and snorted.  
  
“You moan your way to a pity fuck?” Smaug’s face twisted into a mockery of sadness. “Oh poor _me_ , I don’t have any parents, just this enormous fortune that they left me.”  
  
“Go to hell, Smaug,” Thorin growled, and Dwalin took a threatening step forward.  
  
“I assume I was right?” Bofur whispered to Bilbo as the Slytherin and Hufflepuffs busied themselves glaring at each other. “You and Thorin finally..?”  
  
“ _Finally_?” Bilbo hissed back, not caring at all for the unimpressed look he received from Bofur.  
  
“- a duel!” Smaug exclaimed, which made Bilbo’s attention snap back to the other two boys.  
  
“Sure,” Thorin said, crossing his arms. “I hope you like the taste of defeat.”  
  
“You’ll have to tell me all about it,” Smaug said, smirk back in place. “But please, come alone, and that means without all your little friends. You Hufflepuffs are so tiresome, always doing everything in a group. Oh, and shall we make it interesting? Whoever wins gets to go with Bilbo to Hogsmeade?”  
  
“What!?” Bilbo protested. “Thorin!”  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll win,” Thorin said, without looking away from Smaug.  
  
Bilbo’s jaw dropped, and Bofur winced.

“Shouldn’t have said that,” he murmured.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said, folding his arms over his chest. “You are a _moron_.”  
  
With that he stalked off, ignoring how Thorin called after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think Smaug is entirely hopeless in this verse. He's an arsehole sure, but the headcanon I developed just now is that he grew up in very poor conditions, which is one of the reasons why he hates Thorin.  
> There's a good possibility that Smaug will grow up and just remain an arsehole, instead of being a lethal crazy person. *nods*


	2. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dáin/Dís  
> Canon, post BOFA, kinda futurefic

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Dáin’s first thought was to deny it. His second was tinged with hope as Dís did not appear upset, but he mentally slapped himself over the head for that one. There was quite the distance between acceptance and what he’d like to have from her.

“And?” he said instead, unbuckling his cloak and tossing it over the back of the nearest chair. “And good evening to you. Nice of you to invite yourself into my quarters. Did you bring dinner or just your lovely company?”

Dís gestured towards a covered plate and Dáin shot her a quick smile as he joined her at the table.

“My thanks, oh most beautiful of Durin’s line.”

“And then there’s that,” Dís that thoughtfully, and Dáin first thought she referred to a dish that he’d not yet seen before realising that it was his words that was the subject of hers.

“You’re very free with compliments for someone trying to hide that he’s in love with me,” Dís said, no hint of emotion in her voice.

Dáin shrugged and liberated his dinner; roasted duck and some sort of vegetable. “I wouldn’t say that I’ve been trying to _hide_ it. But it’s my concern, and I had no desire to make it yours.”

“Concern?” Dís asked, one dark eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“You don’t feel the same way about me, and while I’m not fool enough to think you’d feel pressured to crawl into my bed-”

Dís snorted lightly and the corner of Dáin’s mouth quirked. “Our hearts are our own burdens to carry, I’d not try and unload mine on someone else.”

Dís was silent for a moment. “You could have told me.”

Reaching for his fork Dáin shrugged again. “Apparently I didn’t even need to.”

He was hungry and the food was soon gone without more words having been passed between them.

“I don’t think I can fall in love again,” Dís said as Dáin pushed the plate away from himself.

“If you’re going to try and convince me to fall out of love with you, I’d ask you not to,” Dáin said, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands together over his stomach. “I’ve tried it already, and it didn’t even work when I thought you hated me for-” he trailed off and sighed. 

“I only hated you for a little while,” Dís said quietly. “And I hated myself more for not being here.”

They looked at each other and Dáin reached out, giving Dís’ hand a squeeze when she took his.

“Should I send for Dwalin so we can have a contest about who can beat themselves up the most?”

He thought the noise that startled out of her was closer to a laugh than a sob, which was good. It had been ten years, and they’d all cried enough to fill a tub already.

Rubbing his thumb over her knuckles Dáin gave a final squeeze and let go, reaching for his goblet only to find it empty. With a sigh he got up to see if there was anything drinkable in his quarters.

“There’s wine,” Dís said and pointed to a flagon standing in the bookshelf. “I was bored,” she replied to Dáin’s non-verbal question. “You took longer than I had expected.”

“Know all my secrets now, do you?” Dáin teased as he went to collect the dark green flagon of wine. “Drink?”

“Just the ones worth knowing. And yes, thank you.”

He almost dropped the container just before he could put it down on the table.

“I do love you, Dáin. I’m just not in love with you.”

“Dís-”

“But I’d like to try.”

Dáin closed his mouth and stared at her.

“Want to try what, exactly?”

Her mouth acquired the same stubborn tilt as she’d developed already as a child. “If- if I ever fall in love again, I think it would be with you.”

“I’m flattered, but-”

“I think that is supposed to be what I say,” Dís said, head tilting to the side as she looked searchingly at him. “So I will steal one of your lines that you ought to have used quite some time ago. May I court you?”

Dáin carded a hand through his beard as he put the flagon down on the table. “You’re serious?”

A nod.

“I thought you had no desire to become the Queen of Erebor.” Dáin waved his hand in the general direction of his crown. “If you’ve changed your mind just say the word, no need to take the long way ‘round.”

“Planning the wedding already then?” Dís said archly and Dáin grinned at her when he noticed the playful sparkle in her eyes.

He wasn’t sure what would be waiting at the end of this path, but he was fairly sure that he’d enjoy finding out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously posted on tumblr


	3. Prison Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Dwalin/Thorin  
> Prison AU, Human AU  
> beware a situation that would probably have ended up as non-con if not for interruption

Dwalin kept to himself, it was easiest that way. 

It worked for him for three months, until the day when he walked in on two guards crowding an inmate up against a wall in the library. 

The man was short, looked young; young enough that Dwalin wondered what the hell he’d done to land his arse here, and he was slim tending towards skinny except for a bit of pudge around the middle. There was no way that he’d be able to fight off both of the guards; then again, even if he could that’d just earn him a stint in isolation. The resigned look in brown eyes meant he knew it too.

“-all know you give it up for Oakenshield,” one of the guards said, an ugly smile on his face. “Don’t you want to be fucked by someone who hasn’t got blood on his hands for once?”

“Go to hell.” The words were quiet but the little man’s voice didn’t even waver, and Dwalin admired that. Was easy enough for someone like himself to be brave, not as easy for a little redhead that looked like he’d weigh ten stones soaking wet. Not even if he was with Oakenshield’s lot, none of them in the library at the moment after all.

Neither of the three had noticed him yet, and Dwalin decided that it was time they did before things got really unpleasant.

Clearing his throat he let the books in his hands fall down on the wooden table by the door, the loud that was the result almost seemed to echo even though a room as crammed with books as this one shouldn’t have the space for it.

The guards flinched, but the small man’s eyes just widened; if it was with relief or worry Dwalin wasn’t sure. 

“You see a lot of things in this place,” Dwalin said to no one in particular as he took a step back towards the exit. “Hear things too.”

The guards exchanged a look.

“You’re not going to tell _anyone_ ,” the other said, and he probably tried to seem threatening but it was all Dwalin could do not to roll his eyes.

“Got nothing to tell,” Dwalin said shortly. “Nothings happened.” He nodded to the small man. “You, get out of here. Before something _does_ happen,” he added meeting the gaze of one of the guards. “Scary place, libraries. Best not to be alone in them. Or best to stay by the door, where the camera can see if something does happen.”

Of course tapes could go missing and cameras could malfunction but hopefully these two guards were just two rotten apples, if the rest of them were the same Dwalin was aware that he’d not have the rest of his time here be very pleasant.

The small man flicked a glance between Dwalin and the guards, then he ducked under the arm that had been keeping him pressed to the wall and scurried away from the guards, breathing a small “Thank you,” as he passed Dwalin. Dwalin didn’t take his eyes away from the guards, but they just glared at him, knocking  his books to the floor as they walked out. 

If that was the worst of it Dwalin would consider himself lucky.

\- 

That same evening Dwalin rather hoped that luck wouldn’t decide to run out. 

He’d never exchanged as much as a nod with Oakenshield but he knew _of_ him, of course he did. Everyone did. And what he’d done. He was a killer, and the word ‘round the yard was that even though he was in prison he still controlled most of the organised crime in London, as well as up north. Even most of the guards gave him a wide berth.

Dwalin was no Snow-white, but he’d be out of this place within the year. 

Oakenshield… he’d be here for ten, and that was with good behaviour. Getting anywhere near the man was not going to mean good things for him and Dwalin knew it. And that meant that Dwalin wasn’t exactly thrilled about being told that his presence was ‘requested’ during dinner that night. _Requested_ , as if he’d have a choice. Or if he’d been granted audience with royalty or some nonsense like that.

“You helped Ori,” Oakenshield stated after Dwalin had taken a seat across the table from him. It was just them at the table, even though it could easily seat ten more. Strange how everyone had found somewhere else to be…

Dwalin grunted and shrugged. 

Damn, but Oakenshield was a good-looking bastard. Dwalin quickly turned his attention down to his plate; staring would not end well, regardless of anyone sussed out what his real reasons for gawking were or not.

“I take care of my people, and I’m grateful to those who will do it for me.”

“Didn’t do it for you to thank me,” Dwalin rumbled before he could stop himself. Balin had always told him that thinking before he spoke would be beneficial, but then again, Balin had told him a lot of things that Dwalin hadn’t listened too.

“I’m grateful even so,” Oakenshield said, and Dwalin did the mistake of looking up into his eyes.

He’d never seen eyes that blue before. Only that were wrong wasn’t it, because they weren’t blue like the sky or fake-blue like the bathroom doors down on the lower levels. It was more like water, or, ice. Yeah, that was close enough.

He was staring now, Dwalin knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Not until a small frown appeared on Oakenshield’s face.

“Problem?” he asked silkily, and to his horror Dwalin felt a hot flush climb his face, only getting worse as he realised he was half-hard. Bloody fucking- He bit the inside of his cheek and quickly looked down, shaking his head. 

He started to eat, mechanically shuffling the food into his mouth, needing to be done with this already.

“Your name is Dwalin, is it not?” 

Dwalin nodded, continuing to eat. He froze when he saw Oakenshield raise his hand; fork stopping half way to his mouth.

“I’m Thorin.”

Once again Dwalin was staring at the man across the table, now at the hand held out for him to take. Was he-? Shaking hands? Like they were on some fucking business meeting or something?

Fucked up as that was though Dwalin knew better than to refuse the gesture.

“Nice to meet you,” Dwalin heard himself say as he wrapped his fingers around Oakenshield’s and he restrained the urge to bang his head against the table.

“Pleasure is mine,” Thorin said, a slow smile tilting his pretty mouth up at the corners.

That was the beginning.


	4. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fíli, Fíli,” Kíli hissed from the doorway to the hall. “Brother, come here. Uncle is sitting out on the porch, cuddling with our would-be burglar.”

“Fíli, _Fíli_ ,” Kíli hissed from the doorway to the hall. “Brother, come here. Uncle is sitting out on the porch, cuddling with our would-be burglar.”  
  
“How much have you had to drink?” The question was accompanied by an eyebrow raised high with disbelief, then Fíli yawned and glanced at the other occupants of the room “And not so loud, you’ll wake the others.”  
  
“Ass,” Kíli huffed. “Come and see if you don’t believe me.”

Fíli thought about it. His bed was very comfortable and he had no idea when he’d next have the luxury of a bed at all. But on the other hand… Kíli had to be mistaken, and then he would get to tease him about it for the next few weeks, and that would be a good way to pass the time.

Except Kíli did not turn out to be mistaken.

-  
  
“It’s true,” Fíli said, just barely refraining from rubbing his eyes.   
  
“I told you,” Kíli muttered sullenly, nose pressed against the little window in the hall, through which they had a clear view of the small bench outside the Hobbit-hole.  
  
“What in Mahal’s name is going on?”  
  
“I don’t know, I was just going out for a smoke.” Kíli fidgeted a bit with the sleeve of his shirt. “I couldn’t sleep. And then I saw them, but I don’t think they saw me. They- weren’t really paying attention.”

“Mahal’s balls,” Fíli swore and Kíli shrugged. 

“I know, weird yeah? Uncle Thorin always-“  
  
“No,” Fíli said. “ _Look_.”  
  
Kíli turned his attention back to the window just in time to see Thorin lean down to touch his forehead to Bilbo’s. Thorin’s hand was gently cupping Bilbo’s head, and their burglar’s small hands were tightly fisted in Thorin’s coat.   
  
“I repeat,” Fíli said, slowly shaking his head. “ _What_ is going on?”  
  
“Is it a spell? Is the burglar a witch?”  
  
“Can Hobbits be witches? “  
  
“A warlock then.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Fíli said and shoved his elbow into Kíli’s side. “Why would they be warlocks?”  
  
Kíli shoved back. “I don’t know. But he can’t be a Wizard, Wizards are like Gandalf. But if Bilbo is a warlock, why would he want to do a spell that would make uncle Thorin cuddle?”

“How should I know?” Fíli fell silent. “Thorin did act a little strange earlier. You know, when he arrived.”

“He’s been strange for longer than that,” Kíli muttered. “I told you, before we left Ered Luin. He was worried. Nervous. He’s never nervous. And he forbade us from coming about a dozen times in the same day, even though he’d already said we could come. Convincing him, _again_ , that was-“  
  
“We don’t usually do things like this,” Fíli pointed out. “And neither has Thorin, and you threw up in a bush after he’d said we could come-“

“I was just _excited_ ,” Kíli muttered.

“-but tonight, when Bilbo asked Thorin if he didn’t think he looked like a _grocer_ … I thought he’d faint or something. No, both of them. They both got really pale.”  
  
“Out dear host is a bit…” Kíli waved his finger in a circle by his head. “Or if it’s a Hobbit thing. Like hugging everyone. And I thought he would cry. Maybe it’s considered a good thing to look like a grocer?”  
  
“Do you think he hugged Dwalin?”

“He did, I asked. Oh, they’re holding hands now.”

Fíli looked back outside again. Thorin and Bilbo were still sitting very close together, and indeed holding hands, and talking.

“Maybe they met before,” Kíli suggested. “In Bree or something. They might have had a… thing?”  
  
“Maybe,” Fíli agreed. “Would at least explain this. But why did they act like they didn’t know each other?”

“Might have ended badly?” Kíli bit his lip. “But they seem to like each other well enough now.”

-

“We’ll do it differently this time,” Bilbo promised. “Thorin, I swear, it’ll not end like before.”  
  
“When I woke up in Ered Luin,” Thorin murmured. “I thought I was dead.”  
  
“No one is dying,” Bilbo said firmly, fingers curling tighter into Thorin’s fur collar. “We know everything that will happen now. We’ll be prepared.”

Thorin drew in a shaking breath and Bilbo inched closer, close enough that he might as well sit himself down on Thorin’s lap, but he didn’t care.

“We’ve the chance to do it right,” Bilbo whispered. “All of it.”  
  
-  
  
“Well I’m going back to bed before they start kissing,” Kíli said after they'd spent another couple of minutes just staring at the two talking softly to each other.  
  
“Kissing?” Fíli said, hearing the scandalised note in his voice but unable to stop it.  
  
“Look at them,” Kíli shrugged. “Or don’t. Because chance of kissing.”  
  
Fíli glanced out the window. There was no kissing, not yet at least, but they looked rather... He'd never seen Thorin look like that at anyone before.  
  
“Fine," Fíli sighed. "I’m going to bed too, but just because I need to fall asleep before you do or your snoring will keep me up all night.”  
  
“Liar.”  
  
“Snorer. As bad as Glóin you are.”  
  
“Am not.” Kíli protested. "Should we ask Thorin about this in the morning?"

"Best not," Fíli decided. "But if it looks like they're not sorting things out on their own we can help them."  
  
Kíli perked up. "That sounds like fun. We can write a love letter to Bilbo and say Uncle did it."

"That's not what I meant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I'll continue this, because from this point it'd be kinda predictable. (I'm sure we all know the steps to take to make sure canon never happened.) But I really liked the idea of a F&K POV where they don't understand why Thorin and Bilbo are acting so strangely.


	5. Swimmingly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo/Thorin, modern au, human au  
> slightly sexual explicit content

”There’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to swim,” Thorin sighed. “I don’t see why we had to wait until everyone was sleeping.”

Bilbo flicked some water his way as he bobbed up and down and tried to convince himself that the ocean wasn’t actually freezing. “I’m not going to be splashing about in front of people I don’t know. I’m wearing arm puffs!”

“And you look delightful,” Thorin said solemnly, but Bilbo could see the glint in his eyes, even in the low light from only the stars and half-moon. He splashed him again.

“Stop teasing me and teach me to swim.”

“Your wish is- _stop_ splashing me.”

-

“Just relax. Breathe, I’ve got you.”

“I’m trying to float, not having sex for the first time,” Bilbo muttered as he flailed about in the water; his body intent on sinking even with the puffs. “It’s not supposed to be this hard.”

Thorin snorted. “Which could be a comment one makes when having sex for the first time.”

“Oh shut up.”

“At least things are wet, and slippery.”

“I _will_ splash you again.”

-

“Thorin if you don’t stop humming the theme from Jaws right now-“

-

“You can’t swim while only using your arms, you’ve got legs as well.”

“Thank you for noticing.”

“I like your legs.” A hand skimmed over Bilbo’s arse.

“That’s not my leg.”

Thorin hummed. “If you manage to swim twenty feet without touching the ocean floor I’ll suck you off before we go back to the cabin?”

“Wha-“ And that’s as far as Bilbo got before he dipped beneath a wave he’d failed to notice.

Once he’d righted himself, and finished spluttering, he looked at Thorin.

“Are you serious?”

“You will need to take off the puffs first, but yes.”

-

“What if someone comes?”

“I think that’s the whole point,” Thorin said, big hands tugging down Bilbo’s wet trunks. They landed on the sand with a wet _schlup_ , and Bilbo shivered.

“You aren’t actually all that funny.”

“But I’m a little funny?” Thorin’s face was shadowed, but Bilbo could just make out the line of his mouth, and he reached up to brush his thumb over Thorin’s bottom lip; tracing it up to the corner of his mouth.

“Just a little,” Bilbo murmured, shivering again when Thorin pressed turned his head and pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, then another to his palm.

“I thought you were going to tell me to put my mouth to better use.”  
  
The words buzzed against Bilbo’s skin and he sucked in a somewhat shaky breath. “You did promise.” 

“So I did.”

Thorin’s hands somehow managed to be warm, or perhaps that was just compared to Bilbo’s skin which longed to get inside and take a hot shower.  
  
With that in mind… There was one very obvious reason as to why Bilbo had lingered on the beach, and that reason was one wet - mostly naked - Thorin Oakenshield, who was now kneeling down in front of him on the sand, leaning in to rub his cheek across Bilbo’s belly; the beard rough and soft at the same time.

As Bilbo’s cock was still almost entirely soft Thorin had little trouble swallowing it down, and he didn’t stop until his nose was brushing against Bilbo’s stomach. 

When he hummed Bilbo twitched; hands flying to clutch at Thorin’s shoulders, tangling with the dark, wet  strands of hair already clinging to them.

The puffs of air from Thorin’s nose felt almost unbearably hot against Bilbo’s skin and he shivered for more than one reason as Thorin gently bobbed his head up and down as Bilbo hardened on his tongue.


End file.
